


a little bird told me

by schmorygilmore



Category: Suits (US TV)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Episode: s03e06 The Other Time, F/M, Ficlet Collection, Post-Canon, Pre-Canon, Twitter
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-24
Updated: 2020-10-09
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:42:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 4,689
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24889339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/schmorygilmore/pseuds/schmorygilmore
Summary: A collection of Donna & Harvey ficlets, originally posted to twitter. — pre and post canon.
Relationships: Donna Paulsen & Harvey Specter, Donna Paulsen/Harvey Specter
Comments: 1
Kudos: 29





	1. flirtation

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: So, I've written a handful (and intend to write more) short little ficlets for twitter, and I figured that maybe, just maybe, you guys might want to see them too. So here they are! I hope you enjoy and please feel free to follow me on twitter if you have one! my twitter is in my bio!

—

_flirtation_

(takes place pre-the other time)

—

It's been weeks of the incessant flirting.

In the file room, by the coffee maker, in his office. She pretends to hate it but she secretly loves it. She knows he's dedicated to what he wants and apparently what he wants is her.

Tonight, it continues.

They're in his office, she's finishing up some paperwork on his desk, paperwork that he should be looking over but instead he's just staring at her.

"Harvey," she says with a roll of her eyes, "don't you have work to do?"

"I am working," he says with a grin.

"Harvey," Donna says blushing but trying to hide it.

Leaning closer to place a brief for his current case in its proper place on his desk, she suddenly realizes that they're too close for comfort. That's been happening a lot lately, too. The closeness.

"Donna," he says in a soft tone.

She looks up at the request and their noses almost brush. It's too much, she thinks. Suddenly, he's leaning in and making his intentions known and she knows she has to stop this before it goes too far because even if this is something she wants she knows it could ruin them. She knows even more that it would ruin her.

"Harvey," she says gently with a push to his chest and soft shake of her head. "We can't."

She watches as he closes his eyes and inhales deeply. She can feel his breath on her skin. They both lean back slowly, feeling the tension of the moment rise and then fall. He finally opens his eyes again and the look he gives her goes straight to the pit of her stomach.

"I should go," she whispers softly. "Good night, Harvey. I'll see you in the morning."

As she turns to head out the door, she can feel his eyes following her and she knows that eventually she'll give in. His pull is like gravity. It's out of her control.


	2. date night continued

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: just another sweet little ficlet that I had posted to twitter from a prompt from elle (darveyiscanon1)

—

_date night continued_

(a continuation of the scene in 9x03)

—

Tonight had been the picture of perfection. A much needed blip of happiness on their radar.

Yes, Faye has been riding them, Donna especially. And yes, the firm was still in utter devastation after everything that had occurred over the last few months. But none of that mattered, sitting under the romantic glow of the restaurant lights.

They had vowed not to let work come between them and after doing half a bottle of wine on the dreadful Faye Richardson they promised to push work aside.

At first, it had been surprisingly awkward. Surprising, because after all the time they'd spent pining after each other, it appeared they weren't quite sure what to do since they were actually allowed to cross that line. Thankfully, that feeling had soon fled with stories of little known facts, past lives and past crushes.

Donna and Harvey settled into companionable, albeit flirty banter. It was the same back and forth they'd always had, but now the sexual tension it was usually laced with was covered in promises of what was to come.

After the waiter had come to collect their empty dishes, they continued nursing their wine and conversing with smiles and winks and slight hand grazes.

The more they shared with each other, the more she noticed him growing near.

He kept leaning in and scooting closer, as if the distance between them, even from his side of the table to hers, was too far. Internally, she wondered if he realized what he was doing. If maybe his subconscious was telling him that now that they could finally be as close as they desired, that said subconscious refused to accept anything less.

She delved into the details of things he may not know about her, surprising even herself at how much she had to share with him. It was truly outstanding that someone she considered ingrained in her entire being still had things left to discover about her.

During a particular story about her first heartbreak at the tender age of thirteen, she delves into the healed wounds in between sips of wine and glances to his face. She can read every emotion that is conveyed by her face on his, as he hangs on every word that slips past her lips.

When she reaches a particularly devastating portion of her tale, out of the corner of her eye she sees him slide his chair to the side of her table and grasp her hand tightly in his. Their joint grasp remains on the table through the remainder of her story and as she finishes, she glances to his eyes and their hands move from the table to her knee, his thumb running back and forth gracefully across the back of her hand.

With a smile and a tilt of her head to the side in adoration, she launches into a story about a Szechuan peppercorn that almost ruined her insides and the cheerful, flirtatious banter has come back to the forefront, but he hasn't yet returned to his original seat location.

And then, there are jokes about black widows and revelations about cases and promises of "no not tonight, tonight is about us" when her phone rings and her insides are warm and fuzzy with the realization that this is her life now. He's her Harvey and she's his Donna and she never has to worry about distance every again.

Even from one side of the table to the other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys for reading! Comments / reviews / criticism are always welcome!


	3. a lazy morning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: yet another sweet little ficlet that I had posted to twitter, this time from a prompt/sketch by cassie (darveypainted) — if you haven't seen her stuff guys please go check it out, her art is legendary!

—

_a lazy morning_

(a post canon cuddly ficlet)

—

Harvey's not an early riser, never has been. There's a reason over the years he was always late for work, sure there were morning meetings but more often then not it was just him, lazily lounging in bed afraid to open his eyes to the morning sun.

Then, there was Donna. Donna arose with the sun, sometimes before the light hit her eyes. She was always alert and ready to face the day, itching to see what the morning had to offer her. She was always on time for everything, early even.

Everything changed when Harvey came knocking on her door.

Suddenly, she was the one lingering behind. Donna was the one who couldn't bring herself to leave the comforts of their shared bed, not with Harvey pulling her closer, bringing her head to his chest, tucking the blanket tighter around her.

This morning, though, she awoke to bright lights shining through the gauzy curtains, one of Harvey's arms under her neck and the other tightly wrapped around her waist, his thumb grazing back and forth over the shirt she pulled over her head last night. His shirt, naturally.

The mornings were her favorite time of day with him, getting to lay quietly with a cuddly, soft Harvey. The Harvey Specter only she got to see. Smiling to herself, she feels his breath in her hair, puffing out of his noise quietly, and she takes comfort in the way her life is now.

Shifting gently in his arms, turning to face him, she tries not to wake him but the attempt is fruitless because the minute he senses her shift in his arms and turn to face him his eyes blink open slowly and softly, adjusting to the morning light and the glow of her smile.

Nose to nose, she breathes out an oh so soft "Good morning," grazing her nose gently back and forth again his.

"Mm... very good morning indeed, Miss Paulsen."

Taking a few morning minutes to simply stare at each other, settling into the comfort of the others embrace they smile and then she simply can not wait another minute (morning breath be damned) to press her lips against his.

Her lips press meld with his, saying good morning in the best way, and her hand wraps around his head to graze the hair at the back of his neck. She feels more than hears the hum in the back of his throat and she swears there's nothing she loves more than that sound coming from him, like he just can't believe she's real.

She knows the feeling.

"We should probably get up, get going," she whispers against his lips.

"I think the firm can handle itself without us for a few more minutes."

"Harvey... that's the third time this week we'll be late. I'm Donna, I'm never late."

"I think I can convince you," he says with a smirk, pulling her back with the hand behind her head, lips meeting hers gently, mouths opening and tongues tangling.

His lips glide down her neck and she lets out a soft groan and he knows he has her. He's gotten good at this distracting thing.

"Ugh, damn it Harvey," she murmurs in his ear. But then, she's diving in head first lips attached to his neck and yeah, they're definitely going to be late for work.

And she couldn't care less.


	4. put your picture in a frame

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: yet another little ficlet that I had posted to twitter, this time from a prompt by cece (_cecealways) who noticed that there was a picture frame that magically appeared on harvey's desk in his condo sometime between 9x04 and 9x05. this was my idea.

—

_put your picture in a frame_

(a post 9x04 ficlet)

—

Donna has always loved Saturday mornings. It was the one time during the week when she gets to function according to her own schedule, whether she wants to take an extra yoga class, shop until she drops or catch up with friends for lunch. She always used the time constructively, trying to squeeze in any extra tasks that seemed too daunting to fulfill during the week.

All of that changed when her and Harvey's relationship shifted. Now, their Saturday mornings were filled with lazy days in bed and barely leaving his (now their) condo. They sip coffee and exchange kisses and laughter and just spend their time existing in each others's orbit.

This Saturday morning, after they had enjoyed a lazy half hour in bed, per usual, Donna's stomach began to rumble and she politely demanded bagels. Harvey, never able to deny her anything, proceeded to crawl out of bed begrudgingly and head down to the place around the corner, promising a quick return.

As she heard the door close, she smiled and stretched her tired bones in bed, then padded her way to the kitchen for one more cup of coffee. Waiting for her coffee to finish she rested her back against the counter, looking around at the condo which used to feel so dark and uninviting and now feels like home.

She carried her gaze across the room, taking in the leather couch, thoroughly rumpled bed and the vinyls lining his office. And that's when she spotted it. A picture frame on the corner of his desk that she swears wasn't there two nights ago.

Harvey was never one for trinkets or pictures scattered around his condo. He liked things clean and simple, so if there was a picture frame on his desk, it had to be important. Gathering her coffee she padded over to the desk, barely holding in a gasp when she saw the picture in the frame.

It was them.

She remembered the moment the picture in the frame was taken. It was the night after he had brought her to Mike and Rachel's apartment, confessing all the things she'd long to hear for so long.

They had come home from work that night, had a quick dinner and settled in on the couch together, Donna pressed into his side and Harvey's hand immediately finding its way to her hair. They had talked about the messages they received in celebration from their best friends and Rachel had jokingly insisted that Donna needed to send her a selfie to prove the shift in their relationship. So she had gotten cozy against Harvey and snapped a few, sending the ones she liked to Rachel.

And that's the photo that was nestled in the frame. She doesn't remember sending it to Harvey, which means at some point he was so determined to have it that not only did he frame it, he also managed to steal her phone and send the photo to himself.

Hearing the door open once more proclaiming his return, she stood there still in a daze over the memory and the fact that this man was finally hers and she was his.

"Hey," he said, getting no response. Placing the bagels on the counter he walked over to where she was standing, staring at the photo on the desk.

"Donna?"

"When did you do this?" She asked, turning to face him.

"Uh, I —" he started, looking down at his shoes, attempting to hide his slight embarrassment over being caught. Turning his gaze back to her face, he finally said, "About two nights ago. I had the picture printed already but I finally got the frame the other night."

"Hmm — Harvey Specter, a closeted romantic," she whispered with a sigh, shaking her head and bringing her hands up to cup his face lovingly. Raising up on her tip toes, she presses a sweet kiss to his lips, catching his bottom one between both of hers.

"Harvey?" She questioned, pulling back from him.

"Yeah?" He said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

"Why this one? I know you have others."

Taking a minute to ponder his answer he finally responded with, "I just wanted the moment when we both knew."

"Both knew what?" She questioned with a tilt of her head.

His face lit up with that smile that he only used for her, and he brought his hand up to cup her neck, fingers tangling into her hair and then said, "The moment we both knew what forever looks like."

Sucking in a deep breath, Donna blinks away the tears she can feel forming in the corners of her eyes and curses Harvey Specter once again for being able to knock her off her game. So, instead of respond, she just raises back to her toes, presses a kiss to his lips, then grabs his hand and leads him back to bed with a smirk.

Yeah, Donna's always liked Saturday mornings, but Saturday mornings with Harvey knock every single one of them out of the


	5. debbie

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: just another little ficlet that got posted to twitter from a prompt by isa (adarveystory) who all but strong armed me into writing this.

—

_debbie_

(a post 9x10 ficlet)

—

"You need a new secretary," she demanded, strutting into his office without preamble.

It had been a few weeks since they'd finally gotten settled in Seattle and things were finally feeling comfortable. Donna and Harvey had both settled into their roles quite nicely, after a small period of adjustment.

Donna has taken to her role as head of Human Resources like a second skin. The job required a lot of her at the current moment, since they were attempting to expand the firm, which meant a multitude of interviews. It also meant that Donna couldn't offer the assistance to Harvey that she had been able to in the past few weeks.

Plus, it was time. It was time for him to find a new secretary.

"Donna," he pleaded in exasperation.

"Don't Donna me, Harvey," she set in the same exasperated tone. "You need a new secretary. I can't keep filling that role for you."

Responding with a smirk, he meets her eyes and says, "But you're so good at it."

"Harvey," she responds with a role of her eyes.

"I don't need a secretary, Donna. I'm fine just as I am," he assures her.

"Harvey Specter, you wouldn't know a filing system if it bit you in the ass. You need a secretary," she said sternly.

Sighing audibly, Harvey resigned himself to the fact that he wasn't winning this battle. He knew she was right, he needed a secretary. "I just — we've been through a lot of changes over the last few months and it was nice to have something stay the same. Us working so close together."

"Harvey," she responded with a smile. "I'm not going anywhere. I'll still be right here," she assures him as she makes her way closer to him, propping herself on the corner of his desk, legs crossing at her ankles. "I'll schedule some interviews for this week and we'll find you someone by Friday."

Nodding gently in agreement, he meets her eyes softly. They spend a minute getting lost in each other's eyes, communicating wordlessly as they so often do.

After another minute, she finally breaks the silence. "Hopefully, whoever I bring you will last longer than two weeks and we won't have this conversation again, mister," she quips with a smirk.

Rolling his eyes with a sigh, "Listen, Debbie, she's got some pretty big shoes to fill," he teases with a grin so wide, clearly proud of himself.

She responds with a slap to his shoulder, meeting his eyes with a gasp and an eye roll of her own, clearly trying to fight back a smile at his genuine chuckle.

"Shut up," she says with another smack to his shoulder. "You're an idiot."

"Mm... maybe," he says looking back to the files on his desk.

Her hand immediately comes up to cup his cheek, stroking his jawline lovingly, eyes meeting eyes. "You are an idiot, but I think I'll keep you," she says gently leaning down to press her lips against his.

Her hands travels from his jawline, back towards his hairline as the kiss falls deeper than they usually engage in at the office. She falls into him a bit, but then pulls back when she feels his tongue trace the outline of her lips asking for entrance. If they went much further, she's be lost and they still had an entire work day to get through.

Hand falling back to his jawline, she caressed his face gently, hazel eyes meeting brown ones and whispered out a soft, "Later."

Smiling, he nodded his agreement and placed one last kiss to her wrist and she said she was going anywhere back to work and he should too.

"Later, Debbie," he responded before she could make her way out of his office.

Pausing mid stride at his door she turned around and with a shake of her head she whispered an "idiot" under her breath.

Finally make her way out of his office completely, he was still smirking to himself.

He may not have his Debbie anymore but he still has his Donna.

—


	6. the surreal life

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm desperately trying to break a month long writer's block here guys, so this is what it is!

—

the surreal life

(early canon ficlet)

—

It's surreal. 

That's the only way to describe it.

It's been a week since he knocked on her door and just six days since he stood in Mike and Rachel's old apartment and divulged his biggest and most long-held secret. They've spent every night together since then, but this is only the second night in his condo.

After leaving the office, they had made a pit stop by Donna's place to gather up some of her things after Donna had expressly declared that she wanted to spend more time in his place because it was only fair. He was happy to spend his evenings anywhere that she was but a small part of him was secretly enjoying the fact that she wanted to spend more time at his place, finally getting to see more of her there than just a cactus ( _their_ _cactus_ ).

So, they had gathered her things and spent a lazy evening in, just being together. These are the nights he finds he likes most, just the nights where they are simply co-existing in the same ether, breathing each other in. 

Eventually, after finishing their drinks cuddled up on the couch, the cuddling had turned to touching and the touching had turned to kissing and well, it's only been a week so there's only so much they can take before it all becomes too much and so he had eventually lifted her from the couch and carried her to his bed, continuing their week-long tradition of making up for lost time.

Basking in the afterglow, they laid together on their sides facing each other, hands caressing and eyes gazing in the quiet of his bedroom and he realized that he really loved having Donna in his condo, but more importantly, he really loved having Donna in his bed. 

Eventually she had risen from their cocoon, grabbing his discarded dress shirt from the floor and wrapping it around her form, padding off to his en suite to start her nightly routine.

Sitting up in bed, he can't help but watch as she gets herself together. He finds that he’s fascinated with all aspects of Donna Paulsen’s being but supremely enjoys the part of her that the rest of the world doesn’t get to see. 

He watches as she takes off her makeup with one of the many products that have invaded his bathroom counter in just a matter of two days. Then continues to watch as she applies yet another slew of products to her face, brushing out her tangled red locks and finally brushing her teeth finishing up with changing out of his dress shirt into the silk pajama set he's found she loves so much.

He wonders if she knows he's staring.

(She does.)

He wonders if it bothers her.

(It doesn't.)

As he watches her make her way back to bed, the surreal feeling washes over him in waves.    
  
He's thought about what it would be like to be with Donna nearly every day for well over a decade, but he never thought it would feel like this. He feels...  _ complete _ . Not in the cheesy,  _ you complete me  _ sort of way, but in the way that you just feel warm and full and whole. The way it feels when you take that first sip of coffee outside on a cold, crisp winter morning and you feel the warmth spread throughout your insides.

"Enjoy the show?" She says with a soft teasing smile, climbing back into bed and settling against him, head on his shoulder and arm slung around his chest.

"Mhhmm," he hums contentedly against her.

Expecting him to say more, she waits patiently but nothing ever comes. The silence, while mostly comforting, also makes her antsy and she wants to know what he's thinking. 

"Harvey?" She questions, head tilting up to his to look him in the eyes.

"I like you here," he finally says after several bated breaths. 

"In your bed?" She responds with a smirk.

"Well, yes... here," he says, gesturing to the expanse of his bedroom. "But most of all, I like you here," he adds, gripping her shoulder and pulling her just a bit tighter against him.

Humming a contented sound from the back of her throat, he feels as well as hears her wordless agreement.

He can tell she's getting sleepy, can feel the flutter of her eyelashes against his upper chest, so he settles himself down in a lying position as she drapes her arm further over his chest curling into his side. They'll move throughout the night, as he's found out over the past week, but they'll never lose contact.

Right before they both finally succumb to sleep, the long day rearing its ugly head, he hears her soft tone murmur, "I love it here too."

He falls asleep with a smile on his face and a realization that while it's surreal, he can't wait to fall asleep with her every night for the rest of his life. 


	7. okay

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Just a little ficlet I wrote based off of the talented Nicole's (thedarvey) manip she posted on twitter! Thank you Nicole!

—

_okay_

(an intent canon divergent ficlet)

—

Feeling the door shut behind him, he pauses, head turned down, preferring to stare at his shoes than at the mess he's just made.

_Fuck_.

He had come over that night, at her request, with the simple intention of comforting her after everything that happened, knowing full well he hadn't had time to when they were in the midst of chaos.

He decidedly did _not_ intend to confess something that he'd worked every day since the DA's office to keep hidden.

_Fuck._

Left alone with his thoughts, subconsciously, he begins to pace. His mind running a mile a minute, he's metaphorically tracking holes into the carpet outside her door, murmuring to himself over and over again "What do I do? What do I do? What do I do?"

Then, all at once, after what feels like hours but is actually mere minutes, the pacing ceases and he finds himself once again staring down the barrel of a gun, masquerading as the numbers _206._

He should go. He knows he should. Because, there's her rule and there's history and there's the firm and there's everything and anything in between them.

But, there's also love and trust and loyalty and respect and want. There's "I can't be me without you" and there's "I need you" and there's "But with you it's different".

He should go.

He really should go, turn and leave, make his way to his apartment, pour himself a scotch and drown himself in the insanity of confessing your feelings to the only person that matters in this world that matters actually means.

He should go.

But then, he's squaring his shoulders and his hand is reaching for the know and he knows he should go but what if, what if just this one time, he didn't. What if he followed through?

_Fuck it_.

He's gonna swing for the fences this time, consequences be damned.

Pushing the door open, he's rushing back inside, coat and jacket being dropped to the floor in haste and he's pounding down her small hallway right back to the scene of the crime. He can tell he's startled her because she's up off the couch like something shocked her and her eyes are wide and her eyebrows are at her hairline and she looks like she did mere moments ago when he left the same way he came in.

"Harvey, what?"

But, he doesn't have an answer for her, because honestly, he doesn't even know what he's doing back he just knows he wants her and he told her because that's how he feels and he wanted her to know and he's going to follow through this time even if the floor opens up and swallows him whole.

Stomping further toward her, he's right in front of her staring down her questioning glance and then without a fleeting thought, he's grabbing the back of her neck with one hand and grabbing her waist with his other and pulling her toward his body, into his orbit and then he's kissing her.

_Fuck._

His lips are pressed so tightly to hers that he swallows her gasp of surprise and it takes her a minute but then she's whimpering just a little and sinking fully into it like it's the way they've always been.

Lips meet lips over and over again and tongues trace and seek entrance and heads turn left and right attempting to find an angle worthy of the passion they have and he's still holding onto the back of her head, fingers wrapped in her hair and it takes the intense burning of a lack of oxygen before they pull back from each other.

As his hands slide from her hair to cup her jaw, her eyes are still closed and she's panting from the intensity of the moment and he's staring straight into her eyes waiting patiently for them to open and meet his gaze.

Taking a few more breaths in, she finally opens her eyes and he can see them swimming with questions. His hand traces her jaw because touching her is the only thing that can keep him sane in this moment. She always keeps him grounded.

He can feel her getting antsy for answers and even though he's just told her and he's just shown her, he really needs to explain.

"I meant it," he says, voice made of gravel.

"Harvey…" she whispers in return.

"I meant it then, I mean it now and I'll still mean it tomorrow. No matter what else happens," he utters as both his hands grasp either cheek, tilting her face up to his.

"Okay," she lets out softly.

"Okay?"

"Okay, Harvey," she says with a laugh.

And then, his brain doesn't even have time to process what okay even means before her arms are wrapping around his neck and her lips are meeting his again and again and yeah, okay.

_Okay_ is good.

—

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you guys for reading! Comments / reviews / criticism are always welcome!


End file.
